


The Christmas Song

by neko_fish



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Hale Christmas Cheer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neko_fish/pseuds/neko_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sleep deprived and home alone, Stiles doesn’t have very high hopes for Christmas this year.</p><p>And then the doorbell rings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christmas Song

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something based on [this interview](http://www.mtv.com/shows/teen_wolf/holiday-wishlist/990688/video/#id=1719541) and [these gifs](http://fuckyeahstilesderek.tumblr.com/post/70947549466/galaxied-x). 
> 
> Happy holidays everyone!

It’s Christmas day when the doorbell rings. 

Sleep deprived and home alone, Stiles had planned on spending it in front of his computer and gaming until his dad got home with whatever take-out he managed to find. At one point, he thought about making Christmas dinner, but his brain’s not functioning and he doesn’t trust himself around large appliances or sharp edges right now.

All in all, he doesn’t have very high hopes for Christmas this year.

Whoever’s at the door rings again, with more force this time, if that’s even possible.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” he calls out, dragging himself down the stairs. “Don’t wolf out on me now.”

He opens the door to see Derek and Cora standing there, and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is “Why are you here? What’s happening? Why is this happening? Am I in trouble? Is someone dying? Oh my god, it’s Christmas, isn’t there a rule against people getting killed by supernatural things on Christmas? Wow, is it weird that that came out so casually? I really shouldn’t be getting used to people getting attacked by crazy things, should I? Was it Santa? Has he finally snapped? I always knew he’d cave eventually.”

As usual, Derek just stares at him long and hard as though evaluating his sanity before saying, “Santa isn’t real.”

“Wow, that w—thank you for that. You know, I could’ve been a believer still, and you could’ve just crushed my hopes and dreams. See that stuff falling in the sky? That’s the crushed remains of my hopes and dreams right there,” Stiles says.

Derek furrows his brows and tells him, “Shut up, Stiles,” before stepping inside like he owns the place.

Cora just smirks and follows her brother inside.

“Awesome. And there’s the famous Hale Christmas cheer right there. Super. Yeah, sure, come on in and make yourselves at home,” he deadpans, closing the door.

“We will, thanks,” Cora replies easily.

It’s only when they step into the kitchen that Stiles notices all the bags in their hands. “Seriously, what’s going on? Are we making hex bags? Potions? My dad might be on shift right now, but if he comes back and sees a potions lab—cool as that would be—he’s probably going to assume it’s a meth lab and arrest you two, because meth labs and sheriffs aren’t really compatible. Meth labs and Stiles don’t go together either for that matter.”

Stiles knows he’s rambling but can’t bring himself to care because he’s seriously sleep deprived and the Hales will just have to deal with it.

Derek starts pulling things out of the plastic bags and instead of chemicals and other questionable things, it’s food. Delicious looking food. “We brought food,” Derek tells him.

“Yes, I can see that, Derek,” he replies. “Is there any particular reason _why_ you decided to bring food to my house?”

“We don’t have a kitchen,” Cora answers. “We ran into your dad yesterday and he said we could make our Christmas dinner here. You’re welcome to join us if you want.”

Stiles gapes in disbelief. “You’re commandeering my kitchen and inviting me to a Christmas dinner _at my own house_?”

Cora shrugs. “That’s the offer. Take it or leave it.”

“How generous of you. I’m touched. Words cannot express how so very deeply touched I am,” he mutters drily.

“He gets mouthy when he’s tired, doesn’t he?” Cora asks Derek.

Derek scoffs. “That’s just Stiles. He’s like this even when he’s not tired.”

“You know I’m standing right here and can hear you, right?—even without werewolf-y senses,” Stiles tells them. When the two don’t answer, he rolls his eyes and mutters to himself, “Great, I’m getting ignored in my own house.”

After a moment of silence, Stiles rubs the back of his neck sheepishly and asks, “Uhh…so do you guys need help with anything?”

“Nope.” Derek puts down whatever he was handling before and steers him out of the kitchen. “What we need is you out of the way.”

“Hey, you can’t just kick me out of my own kitchen!” Stiles protests, digging his feet into the carpet.

“Lift your legs and walk like a normal person or you’ll be spending Christmas in the hospital with Scott’s mom,” Derek tells him.

“But she’s not working today. She’s at home with Scott,” Stiles whines. “Where are we going?”

“To your room.”

Stiles can’t help but laugh. “Oh, Derek, how _romantic_ of you. I would’ve hung mistletoe up, but I can’t really see it as a Christmassy thing anymore. It’s been ruined for me for life. You know, most people go out on dates and stuff before getting this frisky. Aren’t you afraid Cora will hear us?”

Derek rolls his eyes and shoves him into his room and throws him onto the bed. “Get some sleep, Stiles,” he orders, throwing his blanket over him, rougher than necessary.  

“I’d like to, but I don’t think I can,” he replies, pulling his blanket up and snuggling into his pillow because even if he can’t sleep, his bed feels _amazing_.

Walking over and shutting the blinds, Derek shrugs. “Try. We’ll be downstairs. And if we see you walking around in the next…”

Maybe it’s the reassurance that someone will be there or just exhaustion taking its toll, but he’s already out like a light before Derek even finishes his threat.

\--

When he comes to again, he sits up, feeling disoriented but more rested than he has in weeks. He takes a moment to reorganize his thoughts, trying to remember how he ended up in bed and actually _sleeping_. “Right, I got tucked in by Derek. Wow, that’s got to be the single weirdest sentence I’ve ever spoken,” he mumbles.

Dragging himself out of bed, he opens the blinds to find it dark outside already. He doesn’t think much of it since the sun sets at four in the wintertime and goes to freshen up. It’s only after that he checks the time on his phone and does a double take.

It’s already quarter to six.

He managed to get nearly five whole hours of uninterrupted sleep. Just the thought of it makes him giddy. “Well, that’s one thing off my Christmas list. I guess Christmas miracles are actually a thing,” he says, still not quite believing the numbers on the screen.

Making his way down the stairs, he can smell all kinds of food being prepared in the kitchen and hear people talking.

“That doesn’t look anything like the picture,” Cora complains.

“We did what the recipe said though,” it’s his dad’s voice.

“Maybe the recipe’s wrong,” Derek says.

“But it’s got a five-star rating,” Cora protests. “I wish we had mom’s recipes. She always made the best Christmas dinners.”

There’s a pause.

“You know, I bet I have Claudia’s cookbook around here. She wasn’t exactly a natural in the kitchen so she always had to look up recipes,” his dad says. “They’re not five-star recipes, but they’re decent. Stiles always liked them.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Derek replies.

It makes Stiles stop mid-step to hear his father and the Hales talking about their losses at Christmas time. Suddenly, he finds it strangely befitting for his dad to invite the Hales over to use their kitchen. Because in a way, it’s something they all need—company, connection, a Christmas feast. And with Derek and Cora in the kitchen with his dad, the house feels far warmer and homier than it did last year.

Stiles stands there, lost in his thoughts until Derek pokes his head out and shoots him one of his looks.

Snapping out of his trance, he jogs into the kitchen and announces, “That better not be bacon you’re frying, dad.”

“But it’s Christmas, Stiles! Give an old man a break,” John implores.

“Clogged arteries don’t care what day it is and neither do I,” Stiles says.

His dad shoots Derek and Cora a look that screams of his suffering, and for once, Derek shrugs and defers to him. “It’s Stiles’ call, not mine.”

“I’m the sheriff of this county and I can’t even have bacon in my own home,” John mutters, throwing his arms in the air in mock-annoyance. “Do I at least get to pick the movie later?”

“Sure, Sheriff.” Cora grins, taking out the cutlery and plates to set the table. “Hey, Stiles, now that you’re awake, go check on the food in the oven, would you?”

“Yeah, no problem.” Walking over, he turns on the oven light and breaks into an excited grin. “Oh my god, are those chicken nuggets? Are you two mind-readers? This was legit on my wish list to Santa. Holy crap, this is going to be the best Christmas dinner ever!”

\--

Dinner turns out great.

And afterwards, Derek and Cora turn out to be ridiculously well-mannered houseguests and offer to clear the table and do the dishes. John immediately shakes his head and stands up. “You two already made dinner. I’ll take care of this. Go pick something to watch. Because it’s Christmas, I’ll relinquish my movie-choosing privileges to you kids.”

Stiles grins while Derek looks spooked by the offer. “Are you sure?”

John nods. “Son, it’s Christmas. You can get back to whatever it is you normally do tomorrow, but for tonight, you need to relax. Cora, Stiles, make sure he stays out of the kitchen.”

“Yes, sir.” Cora smiles and drags her brother out to the living room.

In the end, Stiles chooses the movie because the two don’t seem to have any opinions about cinema and he’s been meaning to watch the original Teen Wolf movie for months now. The three of them end up squished on the couch while John takes the La-Z-Boy.

The displeased faces Derek makes at every other scene just makes the movie that much better.

\--

At the end of the night, Stiles goes to see the two to the door.

Cora immediately goes to wait in the car after saying her obligatory ‘Merry Christmas’s, leaving him and Derek alone at the front door.

“So today was actually really awesome,” Stiles admits. “Thanks. For everything. You seriously saved my Christmas this year.”

Derek shrugs. “We needed a kitchen and your dad offered.”

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome to use our kitchen whenever you’d like if you bring more chicken nuggets,” he jokes.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Derek chuffs. “Try to get some sleep.”

The words fill him with a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Maybe it’s Christmas cheer, or maybe it’s something else that he’s not quite ready to think about yet. “I will. Drive safely, okay?”

“Yeah. Merry Christmas, Stiles,” With a slight smile, Derek starts making his way towards his car.

“Hopefully Santa will still visit your werewolf-y ass tonight, even though you totally doubted his existence earlier!” he can’t help calling out.

“Santa doesn’t exist!” Derek yells back, getting into his car.

“You know, it’s things like that that’ll get you on the naughty list! He totally does exist, you nonbeliever! I’ll have you know I got everything I asked for this year and more! And Merry Christmas to you too, by the way!”

Derek grins and waves him off as he pulls out of the driveway and onto the road, leaving him standing at the front door, smiling like a dork.

This Christmas didn’t turn out so bad after all, he decides.


End file.
